Petunias and Lilies
by Hermione Is My Role Model
Summary: Petunia thinks about her feelings for her sister, her parents, her husband, her son and the wizarding world.


**Disclaimer: I don't own HP **

Petunia had always hated her name. The flower for which she was named symbolised anger and resentment, and perhaps that was why her parents named her thus – perhaps they had felt angry and resentful when she was born. She was certainly no great beauty – she had lank blonde hair and bluish-grey eyes and a rather horsy face, and when she was ten years old she had had to wear braces because her teeth stuck out too much. She was pale-skinned and bony, and her lips were thin, her neck was too long, her nose was too pointy and her elbows too sharp.

She wasn't astoundingly intelligent either. No; that's an understatement. In primary school she had been bottom of her class; of her entire year group, in fact. Admittedly she did brighten up a bit during secondary school, but it was never enough. Goodness knows how she pulled through her exams and got a job. Being the least adored in her family made her sullen, sour, bitter and moody. She was unpopular at school and unpopular at home. Nobody cared what she did or what happened to her. Why should they? She was just plain old Petunia "Sourpuss" Evans. "Sourpuss" was what they called her at school. When she got her first boyfriend – Vernon – she rushed him to her house to show him off to her parents. But she suspected that her parents disliked Vernon, though they were perfectly friendly to him. She loved him because he was just so...normal. But nothing she did ever made her parents proud of her.

Lily, on the other hand...the lily symbolises purity, innocence, grace, elegance, charm, beauty...everything that Petunia's little sister was. Mr and Mrs Evans had been overjoyed when Lily was born. Practically obsessed. They adored her and talked about her more than anything else. She was the sort of child every parent wishes they had. She was, in her mother's words, "a real angel." She had long, wavy, soft red hair, cute freckles, eyes like glowing emeralds, a perfect slim figure, full red lips, dainty hands and feet, and straight white teeth. She was clever – top of her year group – and kind and compassionate and forgiving. Oh, and she was a witch. For seven academic years she attended a magical school – and Petunia, in a rush of resentment and jealousy, had written to the school, begging the Headmaster to allow her to join, thinking to impress her parents and make Lily jealous. But the Headmaster had gently explained in his answering letter that because she was a Muggle she would not be able to enter the school. So Lily had gone alone, and had been really happy and successful – Prefect, Head Girl, best friends with pretty much the entire population of the school, top of nearly all her classes...and then she was the first of the two sisters to get a boyfriend. James Potter. The first time Petunia met him, she had envied Lily. He was handsome and witty and loving – and only had one flaw. He was a wizard. And Petunia despised everything to do with magic. She had despised magic ever since Lily went off to that damn school.

Their parents insisted that they loved them both equally. Petunia knew that it was not true. When Petunia entered a room, their parents would smile vaguely in her direction and then resume whatever they were doing. When Lily entered a room, their eyes would light up and they would go to hug or kiss her, ask her how she was, invite her to sit on their laps...she was, without a doubt, the favoured child. To add insult to injury, whenever someone visited their house or they met someone in the street, that someone would smile at Lily and inquire her name, and completely ignore Petunia. Petunia was just far too ordinary – if you were to walk into her classroom at school, she would be no more significant than the other children in the room. Lily, however, was instantly eye catching, and would probably be the first thing your eyes would land upon if you walked into her classroom.

Petunia's one comfort was that she was convinced she had a better husband and a better son than Lily. Her husband was normal. He was a businessman. He had a big appetite. He disapproved of the unusual. He had a moustache. He read the morning paper and watched the evening news. Yes, he was rather temperamental, but he was normal and he loved her and that was all that mattered. And as for her precious Dudley...he, too, was normal. He was a little boisterous and maybe a little bit rude and demanding, but he was just a little boy, after all, and she adored him. Everything was perfect until the night that Lily and Potter died, and that brat turned up on her doorstep. The nerve of those dratted wizards! How dare they dump a baby on her doorstep in the night and just assume she would want to look after it! And then all that had followed...those good-for-nothing wizards barging into her house as if they owned the place...that giant brute putting a pig tail on her poor little Dudley...the owls flying in and out, dropping letters everywhere...her darling little boy getting attacked by Dementors and throwing up on the carpet...all those strange things that happened whenever Harry was in the vicinity, just as strange things had happened when Lily was around...and then, being forced out of her house and into hiding with Dudley and Vernon because Lord Voldemort was in power again.

A small part of her forgives Lily, and Harry. A small part of her wishes she had been kinder to both of them. But she will never forget what the wizarding world has done to her and her family. It was magic that killed her parents. It was magic that killed Lily and Potter – James. And it was because of magic that the Dursleys had been told that they were no longer safe from Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.


End file.
